


Fifty Shades of Steele

by morbidly_at_peace



Category: Fifty Shades of Grey - All Media Types
Genre: Dominant Anastasia, Elena is mentioned, F/M, Fix-It, One Shot, Smut, Some Fluff, Submissive christian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24267427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morbidly_at_peace/pseuds/morbidly_at_peace
Summary: Christian finds himself tired of making decisions yet scared of being taken advantage of by others. When Anastasia sees this, the tables turn.
Relationships: Christian Grey/Anastasia Steele
Kudos: 31





	Fifty Shades of Steele

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just me trying to reconcile their pointless, fucked up relationship after attempting to watch all the films and failing after the first. They have no chemistry beyond the initial attraction, neither of them has a complex personality and also are needlessly cruel to one another. Like we all know why Christian is awful (if you don't, there's no saving you, sorry bro) but Anastasia asks him at the end of the first film to show her how extreme he can be, and like socially inept guy he is doesn't question her clearly questionable emotional state and just does it. She literally asks for it then when he's done she's like 'What the fuck is wrong with you?'. There's no real reason for them to be together.
> 
> Also, I wrote this a while ago and when I found it I realised it's an odd thing to just have on my phone for no reason. I didn't have the heart to delete it so here it is.

Christian wasn't entirely sure when he decided to leave work or even how but he'd managed to dodge his dozens of assistants and lose his phone along the way, effectively cutting himself off from the place until they smoked him out. He was now in his home for once, staring out at the miserable city below. The clouds were drizzling on the bustling bodies below. All moving with a purpose, knowing exactly were they were going and why. He couldn't focus at any of his meetings so there was no point of even being there. 

Ever since he'd stopped having that kind of relationship with Elena he always had to be the one in control. He wasn't a complete idiot. She'd taken advantage of him. He was so desperate for love that he let her do whatever she wanted with him. Every caress, compliment and even wound she'd bestow upon him would make him feel desired. He never wanted anyone to be able to have that kind of power of him again. 

Although if he was being entirely honest with himself, he hated having control. Running his company was a constant stress. It felt like every decision he made would make him bankrupt. Then there was Anastasia. She was innocent yet stubborn, mischievous yet clumsy. She was his goddess, light and joy, despite the fact their relationship was a bloody train wreck. He was too possessive and problematic to deal with situations in a healthy way and she couldn't stick to the rules, always evading the instructions of the contract. It made it so much more difficult to have to make the decisions for the both of them. He rested his head on hands. God he was so tired. Hot tears leaked out of his eyes carving canals down his cheeks and pooling on the floor below. In his surprise, he attempted to rub them away but they just continued to pour.

"Christian? Are you okay?", Anastasia ran over to him and embraced him. He stiffened. She was meant to be at work. Why was she here? Was she leaving work to see someone else? Why else would she be here? At the thought his throat tightened and his tears became streams. He attempted to push her away but she only caressed the side of his face lovingly and continued to ask him what's wrong.

"I'm fine. Why are you here?", he hiccuped, trying not to lean into her touch. 

"I came to see you and was told you left. I was worried about you. You've been so quiet, even more than usual, there must be something wrong.", she pleaded, attempting to look into his eyes but he refused to make eye contact. His control of the situation was slipping and the worst part was he was enjoying it. He wanted this. He wanted to tell her that he didn't want to make decisions for her. That he was tired of being the dominant but he couldn't. He needed BDSM in his life. It was his only constant. Anything vanilla felt mundane and pointless. 

She wouldn't stop asking. He tried to be firm and look her in the eye when he refused to tell her but ended up staring at his feet. Like a naughty child. The authority had left his voice and was now growing in Anastasia's. A strange but familiar arousal pooled in the depth of his stomach. 

"Christian", Anastasia said firmly, "What happened?" She tilted his face toward her, the concern in her eyes apparent. Her other hand was half embracing him still. His own were weakly resting on her shoulders from when he tried to push her away. She was standing awkwardly hunched over him, the piano stool making the angle difficult. He dropped his arms in defeat, allowing her to climb onto his lap, some semblance of control returning. He hated it. He wound his arms around her, let his head fall to her shoulder.

"Nothing happened, honestly... It's just...", his breath hitched when she began to kiss his neck lightly in encouragement. He coughed to cover it up but it emphasised his embarrassment. She made a sound of acknowledgement to prompt him to continue. "I'm just tired."

The silence hung between them heavily, "Of?"

"...", he felt nervous to tell her. It could change everything...but didn't he want that? He didn't want things to stay this way. He loved Ana but he couldn't continue feeling like this, something had to change. "...of constantly making decisions. I feel like I'm always making the wrong one. I just want...to not have to", he sobbed against her shoulder. 

Shame washed over him as he felt the way she shifted against him, if though she was going to leave. She pulled back and caressed his neck with a gentle hand. He continued to stare holes into the floor beside him.

"Christian, look at me", her voice was filled with her usual determination but twisted with something much more commanding. Intimidating. He obeyed. Her pupils were blown, dilated like a feline's, stalking its prey. His breath caught. She took his chapped lips within her own, harshly kissing him. The force of it brutal, passionate. Her tongue delved into his mouth, dominating his own. 

Instinctively, his hands began to roam her back, reaching to towards her rear to sculpt the globes that lay there. She stopped him though, grabbing his wrists firmly and placing them behind him, "No, I'm in charge" she said boldly. He couldn't deny her, the self-assured tone left no room for argument. She traced a tear-stained track on his cheek with her tongue. A sharp shot of arousal went through him and he whimpered. He went to touch but remembered his place. Gripping the back of the stool, he attempted to grind upward against her crotch to gain some relief but she simply leaned heavily against his legs to restrict his movement.

"Someone's eager", she stroked his side earning a shudder, "close your eyes". He hesitated for a beat before obeying. Now he could only track her movements by touch, await her next move. She ran her hands down his sides once more before letting them slide past the hem of his shirt and up his chest. She stroked the hardened buds there, sensitive from years of neglect, touch-starved. She then pinched one harshly, elevating his ragged breathing. Her fingers danced like fairies around them, the strong muscle beneath twitching. She hitched his shirt up and placed it over his head. She continued to abuse the nubs, her tongue joining when it wasn't stroking his own . She occasionally teased them with her teeth, pulling at them, making his chest arch toward her and his panting erratic. 

His hardness was already aching desperately, yet she made no move to touch him there, seemingly content to continue her assault on his chest, peppering bites across it that he could only hope weren't above the collar. He couldn't think straight, had to be touched. He needed some relief. "Please, Ana..." he begged, urgency clear in his tone. She chuckled affectionately. 

"Please what?", she stroked circles around his nipples, making him shudder.

"Please touch me", he could feel the heat of a flush on his face, one he hadn't felt since he was a teen. Her hands began to trail downward towards his abdomen. The anticipation grew coiling in his stomach until she abruptly stopped. The gasp he let out was pained. 

"Where?", she whispered cruelly in his ear. Honestly he just wanted to cry once more, he wouldn't be surprised if he was told he was. He couldn't say it, it made what was happening that much real. The tears began to grow and sting his eyes. Anastasia must have noticed as she simply kissed he lids and let her hands continue to descend downward, "Sorry baby."

She unbuttoned his faded jeans, getting off his lap. Suddenly her hands were gone completely. He felt disconnected and exposed. Bitten chest bare, jeans undone, abused lips and a very apparent hard on. He heard her footsteps a minute later but it felt like eternity. He hadn't dared to open his eyes when she was gone. Old habits they say. She let his shirt cover his eyes none the less and tied his hands "Just in case."

She placed her hands flat on his thighs, running them across them, inching closer to his heat each time. His lip was raw from his own assault of it. Grabbing the hem of his jeans she pulled them off in a fluid motion. He keened as his hard-on was freed, now standing to attention. Angry red blossomed from the head and flushed the shaft too. She began to kiss and caress the skin of his inner thigh, spreading him wide. She edged his thighs closer to the end of the stool for a larger expanse of skin to nibble and suck. 

As he pictured the dark bruises she was surely leaving, his blush darkened and fidgeting increased. Anastasia chuckled once again, voice dainty, "That face suits you. I think you should try it more often." Without warning, she let her tongue drag across the length of his shaft. A large drop of precum beaded at his head before rolling down to his abdomen, "On second thoughts I like that one more." She giggled affectionately, continuing her ministrations.

He didn't last long at all but she didn't comment. Even cleaned him up as he lay exhausted and over stimulated on the stool. Finally removing the shirt the cover his eyes, she gave him an earnest smile before she helped him up and took him to their bedroom. As she tenderly carded her slender fingers through his hair, he felt his previous tension leave his system. He was actually happy for the first time since the start of their relationship.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment if I made mistakes.


End file.
